


Beauty

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Game of Thrones - Freeform, babies in love, morning after thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Brienne had faced such a cruel world; all she knew was fighting - though by her own accord - and harsh words intended to wound her more than the slice of a steel blade ever could.





	Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all !! This is my first Briame fic and I hope it’s sweet enough to get you through to the next episode. It’s short, but I had the sudden motivation to write and I thought that I might as well share!

_Brienne_ _the_ _Beauty_. That’s what she had been called by the townsfolk back at home. She had previously thought that they were just the words of young boys who had no clear perception or understanding of morals, but she had admitted to herself not long after leaving Tarth that the whole community of others had referred to her as such too. Her father - _her_ _dear_ _father_ \- had truly thought the words spread around were of kind nature, that his daughter was perceived to be anything other than a beast of a girl. Brienne knew better, of course. Nobody had dared to say the words towards her father with a sneer, with sharp laughter in their tones, but she couldn’t really blame them all too much for that. Her father was a gentle soul, a man too honoured and generous for his time, but beneath that coat of kindness a looming sense of danger lurked within the very depths of his eyes. The first step anyone took to cross him - or his darling girl - would be the last step that they took. Naive as it may be of him, Lord Selwyn only grinned proudly whenever he overheard townsfolk murmur about the tall girl who strode beside him in with what seemed like such appealing words: ‘ _Brienne_ _the_ _Beauty_ ’. Looking back at it now, Brienne could only laugh. Bless his soul, he hadn’t known how truly deep those words had cut her and how those wounds had still not fully healed. Nor, she assumed, did the once young boys who spat such appealing words with such hatred that she could still hear the very same voices if she listened to the wind long enough. They seemed to drift through whatever cracks they could, whether it were a crack in the wall or a crack in her resolve. They always found a way in, and they always dug new depths inside her tender heart.

 

Jaime, however, didn’t see what she had always seen. At least, not in the same way as those other boys.

 

He had awoken to the warmth of the fire licking at the souls of his feet, which had somehow managed to poke out of the tangle of furs he was currently lay under. It was a pleasant way to rouse, he had mused faintly to himself as he retracted his legs from the edge of the bed to tuck underneath the security of the covers, for he had only ever known cold in the North. The first night he had spent in Winterfell had been a sleepless one, the daggers of cold air practically piercing his skin with every opportunity it could, and Jaime thought it foolish not to take advantage of the warmth that not only spread around his outer body, but his inner body too when he cracked his eyes open to catch a glimpse at the sleeping woman besides him.

 

Brienne was peaceful when she slept. That brow of hers that he was all too familiar with seeing creased into a frown was smoothed out, her pale skin glowing in the embers of light the fire provided. Of course, the purple bruising of her eye was visible still, but in her current state Jaime couldn’t help but think it were a mere illusion that such a delicate looking lady could be wounded in such a way. Brave as she was, Brienne seemed so tender in that moment. So gentle and young.

 

 _Young_.Dear God, dear was so young.

 

The realisation hit Jaime so hard he had to hold his breath with fear of letting out a harsh enough gasp to wake her. How old had she been when they had first met? Jaime was certain she was still in her teens, and so that would make her no older than her middle twenties. In no way did her age put him off, nor did it make him regret anything that had happened between them, but regret was still present in the depths of his heart. Brienne had faced such a cruel world; all she knew was fighting - though by her own accord -  and harsh words intended to wound her more than the slice of a steel blade ever could. Something struck at his heart the longer he stared at her face in the dimly lit chambers of her bedroom and he couldn’t help but reach out to her face to trail his fingers delicately across her angular jaw.

 

Strong, he noted.

 

Everything about Brienne was strong. The way she held onto him last night when he had rocked her into climax with those dainty looking fingers of hers felt like enough power to bruise the bones beneath his skin. The powerful gaze of her sapphire eyes into his own had him wanting to tremble above her as he was sure he could see the sparkling oceans surrounding Tarth crashing on the shore of her pupils inside of them. Her breathy cry of ecstasy had been equally as strong, it had echoed throughout the room and still resonated in his mind now that he thought back to it, and it was more than enough to force Jaime to intake a breath of warm air, the same that had fanned over his face the previous night when he and Brienne had whispered each other’s names against one another’s kiss-swollen lips.

 

Physically, everything about her was strong. Those muscular thighs of hers had trapped him within her; within her body, her heart and soul. They had squeezed his own hips until he was forced to melt into her fully, to not only become one with her but to become bound to her. Her arms had been strong enough to hold him after he had collapsed onto her chest, panting her name against her sweat-slicked skin.

 

Soulfully, she was even stronger. Jaime could not even begin to fathom how Brienne had grown to be so tolerant, and no matter how much armour she wore, the strength of her soul could not be matched by any wearable chest plate that was put on to protect her heart. She had known death her entire life, more than she had known life, and yet death was not her friend. Though neither was life. Both of which she was aquatinted with, but none of them she were entirely familiar with, for she had not experienced death first hand, and she had not experienced true living first hand either. Jaime had thought Brienne had lived to fight when he had first met her, that she lived to serve and do the honourable first. But now, he saw that Brienne had not lived at all. Not in the literal sense, but emotional. She had always been held back by words powerful enough to knock her walls down even years after they had been said. She had never allowed herself to think she deserved what Jaime had given her last night, and that alone would be enough for himself to give up completely. But Brienne - his darling Brienne - hadn’t, and by the Gods he was glad she hadn’t. Nothing was strong enough to fight the soul she had, not even her own body, and at that he had to smile.

 

Jaime’s fingers had been brushing over Brienne’s jaw as he mused to himself, and only when he broke out of the trance did he shuffle himself carefully towards her still sleeping form to press a delicate kiss to her temple. His hand raised to swipe a few hairs from her forehead which had curled with the sweat that had dripped from her scalp last night, much like the rest of her golden locks. The stump of his right arm rested on her bare hip, and though he had no fingers to caress the scar-littered flesh, he could still feel the phantom sensations of Brienne’s silky skin.

 

The smile that lifted his features at the sight of her sapphire-incrusted eyes fluttering open to meet his own had lit even his own heart. And as she smiled back in that gorgeous sleepy state, he couldn’t help but wish that all of those people who had ever mocked her in the past understood that his definition of ‘beauty’ began with her name.

 


End file.
